Built on Rock

Romans 12: 1-8; Matthew 16: 13-20

FPC; 8-24-08

In Caeserea Philippi, Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”  The disciples responded by listing the names of people who are included in the great prophetic tradition: “Some say John the Baptist, others Jeremiah, still others say Elijah.”  For Jesus, the question was the perfect lead-in to another question, “Who do you say that I am?”  That is the most important question, the one question against which all others pale in significance.   

We rightly uphold the faith of our ancestors.  We appropriately honor the witness of faith offered by saints of the church.  But the most important question is not “Who do our ancestors believe Jesus to be?” but “who do you believe Jesus is”?   At some point, we must claim faith as our very own. 

I can imagine Peter waving his hand above his head, as if to say, “I know, I know the answer.  Call on me.”  After the teacher nods to him, Peter presents his answer:  “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”  It is the correct answer.  The teacher praises his star pupil.  “Blessed are you, Simon [Peter].

The one upon whom Jesus pronounces his blessing has the responsibility to be a certain person and to live a certain life. One scholar puts it like this: A statement like Peter’s demands commitment. “Once one [has] said ‘Christ,’ one binds oneself to follow the Christ, no matter where that following might lead.” (Leuking, 95)  Since Jesus is Lord of the church, we are the ones subject to his rule.  Since Jesus is ‘Son of the Living God’, we are, then, his brothers and sisters who share a kinship with him.

It is a kinship demonstrated best by living a life that is out of step with the world.

I love the image of clothes or clothing Paul uses in speaking about Christian discipleship.  

The clothes the Christian wears are not to be patterned after the clothes of the world.  We colonists are to wear our own unique garments.  We are to have patience when the patience of others wears thin. In a world where far too many homes are haunted by harshness, we are to have in our homes a spirit of gentleness. We are to speak when the world is pressuring us to remain silent. 

If you saw the movie Schindler’s List, you will probably agree with me when I say that it is a difficult movie to watch?  But it is also a movie with great meaning, one that has impacted my life. 

At the beginning of the movie, Oskar Schindler is a member of the Nazi party, an entrepreneur who views ethnic cleansing as a way of making a financial profit.   

He begins the operation of a factory that makes pots and pans.  As his only labor force, Schindler employs a number of Jews, manipulating them for his own selfish climb up the ladder of power and wealth.  He pays them little or nothing, using all the revenue to pad his own wallet. 

But as Schindler spends time with the workers and as he witnesses the terrible, wretched torture and persecution of the Jews, his heart begins to change.  No longer is his activity patterned after other Nazis.  He adopts a Christ-like attitude, an attitude that serves as the catalyst that causes him to change his life’s activity.

As the years of World War II continue, Schindler seeks to save as many Jews as possible, risking his status and power, risking his own life. 

He bribes high-ranking government and military officials in order to bring to his factory those who would be killed.  For the Jews, his factory is a place of sanctuary and refuge. 

People in the church are to march to the beat of a different drummer than the drummer to which the world marches.  We are to be in the world but not of the world.   In our own marching, in our living, in our efforts to live as disciples, we are equipped with a variety of gifts. The distinction among us is not that some have gifts and others do not.  The distinction among us is the particular gifts we have.

“Having gifts that differ, let us use them.” 

In the church I served before coming here, there was a delightful person who impressed me with her many talents.  One of her talents, however, stood above the others.       

When she was born, Flora Campbell was appropriately named.  She loved flowers so much that she sought to preserve them after they died. By closing a thick heavy book over them, she pressed those dried flowers.  From them, she made laminated bookmarks.  She didn’t keep the bookmarks.  Rather, she shared them with people in the community.  

Because of her physical limitations, Mrs. Campbell seldom left her home.  But every time she sent one of those bookmarks to another person, some of her kindness and love went with it. 

With Peter, she professed Jesus as Messiah and Son of the Living God.  But she understood, as we all must understand, that our faith not only is to be professed, but, also, practiced. 

“Having gifts that differ, let us use them.”

Maybe you and I cannot press flowers and make a beautiful bookmark.  But we can teach.  Maybe we cannot teach.  But we can trim the shrubs.  Maybe we cannot do landscape work, but we can call or visit church members confined to their homes. 

We are called, not to be perfect, but to live faithful lives, to live the faith we profess, to use gifts God in Christ has given us. 

As we respond to that calling we are equipped by the one who is with us at all times and in all places.  Thanks be to God!